


Time Happily Spent (and Meant to be Celebrated)

by greyscalemuse



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Date, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, John is confused, M/M, Sherlock is an awkward puppy, vague descriptions of microscope misuse because it's been ten years since i've had to use one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 04:46:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11524845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyscalemuse/pseuds/greyscalemuse
Summary: Sherlock is being pestered to go to his parents anniversary party and it opens up a much needed conversation with John, conveniently, by accident.





	Time Happily Spent (and Meant to be Celebrated)

**Author's Note:**

> I got a request for Sherlock accidentally asking John out on a date and I certainly hope this delivers! It's been awhile since I've written anything this fluffy. It felt very very nice.
> 
> Beta'd by the irreplaceable Irrevocably_Sherlocked (because I'm doing that now!) so it could be positively perfect for gentleau! Enjoy!

John had already grabbed Sherlock’s phone the moment he’d heard the melodic ‘ding’ merely out of habit. Sherlock twitched his lips to poorly suppress his smile from where he was perched behind a microscope. He cleared his throat to ask if it was important.

“Oh, it’s your mum…”

John answered him before he had the chance. Sherlock could only roll his eyes. He knew what this was about and he scoffed in reply. “Oh…” he huffed a long suffering sigh and nodded as John started to summarize her message, “Yes, yes. I know. Some asinine anniversary party she’s trying to get me to commit to this weekend.”

“Anniversary? You mean your mum and dad’s?”

“Yes. They have a small gathering every year that I never attend, but this year is apparently a big one, though I can’t quite remember which it is… Anyway, they’re insisting it’s special and that I need to attend, but I hate their friends and their friends aren’t too keen on me so I’m failing to see the purpose.”

“I don’t know, maybe to celebrate their long and happy marriage with their loved ones?”

Sherlock sighed and leaned back so he could look at John directly and not mince on his own annoyance. “It’s pointless! If you enjoy someone’s company, does it really matter how many months or years or whatever arbitrary measure of time you choose that you’ve spent enjoying that said person?”

John paused and did a few exaggerated blinks, his lips parted and waiting for him to speak. He cleared his throat and shot a quick look downwards before he nods. “Yeah, okay. Doesn’t take away from the sentiment though.”

“No?”

“I don’t think so,” John shrugged before huffing out a bit of humorless laughter. “I mean, personally I like the idea of anniversaries. It’s just a nice idea – giving an excuse to look at the person you’ve decided to spend all this time with and think ‘wow, I’m lucky’. That kind of thing. Though… I guess I haven’t really been given many chances to do that. The only person I’ve been able to spend any kind of extended period of time with is… well… you. But you don’t really celebrate anniversaries with your best mate.”

Sherlock’s head snapped forward and he drummed his fingers against the cluttered table, eyes darting from the floor to the microscope situated in front of him, to the crime scene samples he’d been examining, the dark laboratory walls, the ceiling, pretty much everywhere that wasn’t John himself. He finally cleared his throat and then ventured, quite carefully, to his next statement, which came out in a muttered jumble of words that John had to strain to hear. There was another long pause in the conversation before John finally had to request Sherlock to repeat himself.

“I said,” Sherlock’s voice started to edge into that weird tone of anxious irritation that was truly unique to him, “why couldn’t we? We’re in a relationship, aren’t we? Wouldn’t it be appropriate to celebrate each passing year?”

“Anniversaries usually have a… romantic… meaning to them. So does the word ‘relationship’.”

“So?” Sherlock shrugged before bending over the microscope again a bit too quickly, and nearly smacking himself in the eye. He straightened his back quickly and tried to save a bit of face, hoping John hadn’t noticed the blunder. John did, of course, but he didn’t say anything, only contorted his mouth a few times to keep from laughing. Sherlock cleared his throat again and fiddled with the slide and the magnification before continuing his line of thought. “We’re still two people who enjoy each other’s company, I feel like that’s a good enough qualifier towards a relationship.”

“What happened to ‘anniversaries are just a pointless celebration of an arbitrary measure of time’?”

“You said you enjoyed the sentiment…”

“I do! But I’m still trying to figure out why that matters to you!”

“I assumed that’d be obvious…” Sherlock’s cheeks were definitely burning at this point, and it was most certainly against his will. His pulse was racing and his hands felt a little clammy as he continued to fiddle with the focus knob of the microscope until he heard the soft ‘ting’ of the slide cracking. He exhaled slowly, before he very carefully (or at least as carefully as a shaky hand could) started to remove the slide before he did anymore damage. He turned in his seat and rubbed his hands along the denim of his rarely worn jeans. “We could celebrate our anniversary after the case is over, if you like.”

“Okay… except we met in January and it’s July…”

“Does that change the sentiment at all?”

“A little bit. But. Okay. That’s fine. How would you like to celebrate this supposed anniversary?”

Sherlock’s mouth twisted as he felt the full scrutiny of John’s gaze before he shot another forlorn look towards the lab table, eyes going from item to item before he sucked in a breath and then dragged his gaze back to John himself. He looked past him at first, focusing on the bit of wall just above John’s ear before he pulled it back down to his face. A perplexing cocktail of curiosity, amusement, and confusion swirled in his eyes and caused his teeth to drag across his bottom lip as he waited patiently for Sherlock’s answer.

“Dinner?” Sherlock squeaked a bit as he tried to shift the timbre of his voice from that of a questioning adolescent to a confident adult a bit too quickly in a two syllable word. He sucked in a slow breath before he tried again, “Dinner. If you would like.”

“That is… literally no different than what we usually do…” John frowned as he took in the sudden sinking of Sherlock’s posture before the man stood and started to fidget uncontrollably with the samples of evidence he’d procured throughout the ongoing investigation. “But… I suppose that’s as good of a celebration as any. Keeping it familiar… can I ask one more thing though?”

“What?”

“Why do you want to do this again?”

“I told you, John… I assumed it would be– “

“Obvious. Yes. I heard you, yet it’s not very obvious to me. So please. Explain it. For my sake.”

Sherlock sucked in a breath and then his eyes did another little dance before landing again on John’s face, which was a few steps closer to his own than it had been before. “You said… earlier… that sentiment would complete me as a human being.”

“Romantic entanglement.”

“Same difference.”

“Not q– wait,” a nervous smile stretched on John’s face as he seemed to start to catch up on what was exactly happening. “Are you… are you asking me on an actual… date?”

“I’m asking you to an anniversary dinner.”

“Which is also a date.”

“Which is… maybe? Or…” Sherlock tilted his head side to side for a moment before he finally settled on a more concrete answer, “Yes, I suppose it is.”

“So the reason why my attachment to sentiment is important to you is because – “

“ – is the phrase ‘you complete me’ a bit too cliché for the moment?”

“Very.”

“Oh.”

“But I’ll take it.”

“… oh?” Sherlock stared at John again, who was now barely a step away from him, arms still folded, but the confusion was gone and all was left was an expression that Sherlock could only describe as ‘besotted’. “Oh… OH! The barber did it!” Sherlock blurted out so fast that John backed away quickly. “Of course he did… so simple! Why didn’t I think of that before?” He was scrambling for his phone which John still had in hand, pressed to his upper arm awkwardly in his crossed-arm stance. He grabbed it without thinking and stared at John for a long moment as he shifted frantically from one foot to the next. “I’ll… text Lestrade and then…”

“Then we can go on our date.”

“Yes.”

“Fine. Where do you want to have it? Angelo’s or the Chinese place?”

“Wh– oh. Sentiment. Right?”

“Right.”

“Then… Angelo’s. I think. That sounds… right, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” John smiled – genuinely and truly smiled. “I’ll call to let him know we’re on our way. And I’ll let Mrs. Hudson know I’m going to be home later than expected.”

Sherlock pressed his phone closer to his chest as John brushed past him before whirling around to stop him just as he reached the door to the lab. “John?”

“Hm?”

“I… I am terribly sorry. I’m… rather inexperienced in… well… all of this but… I wanted to just let you know – I didn’t mean to take this long… to finally tell you…”

“You know what, Sherlock? It’s fine. It really is… all fine.”


End file.
